The Tomb

"Benny?" A voice from near the edge of the tomb spoke. A figure slumped against the exterior of the Old Birch Tomb, shrouded by a dark, ragged cloth. The figure stood and took a few long steps towards Benny, occasionally stopping to ask. When the figure finally drew close to Benny, a long arm moved up and brushed away the hood.

"Benny, thank Oden, man." Roland grunted, pulling the wool blanket snugly over his shoulders again. "I was starting to wonder when someone else was gonna show up. Camille went into the tomb, and I hadn't heard nothing for hours." The headbanger shrugged sheepishly. "I got up to go take a piss, and I just got back when you came up. What's goin' on, man?"

"Hello?" Camille called. "Any one there? Helloooo!" It had been at least half an hour since she'd fallen through the floor of the tomb, and she didn't think things could get much creepier. When she had looked up to see if she could get back, there was no hole in the ceiling. It was as if there was a trap door there, and Mr. Birch wasn't dead. But he was. She heard a twig snap behind her and spun on the balls of her feet to find nothing... No one. Camille gave a little shiver as she spun back around. Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her off into the darkness.